Flower in the Sand
by Naurring
Summary: An experiment has a slightly different outcome than expected
1. Chapter 1

Title: Flower in the Sand  
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's  
Word count: 1136/1136  
Pairing: ?  
Rating: PG-13  
Warning: Slight violence, prejudices  
Summary: An experiment has a slightly different outcome than expected  
Timeline: Gondolin, years before its fall  
AN: Don't be shocked about the 'boy' part, he's past his majority, but compared to Glorfindel...

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**Chapter 1**

„My Lord."

Glorfindel furrowed his brow, slightly annoyed about being disturbed during dinner.

"He is here."

His angered expression instantly turned into a big grin and he put his napkin on the table, rising hastily.

"He is waiting for you in the entrance hall."

Glorfindel nodded in acknowledgement, hurrying past the servant, towards the entrance hall. Now that the boy had arrived he could finally begin his project.

A skinny, young boy was waiting for him, head lowered, his dirty-blond hair covering his face, whilst his hands nervously fumbled with the hem of his shirt. He did not look up as Glorfindel entered the room, but lowered his head even further.

Gaelion, Glorfindel's head servant, bowed before his master, stepping aside dutifully as Glorfindel strode towards the boy.

Glorfindel stopped in front of him, waiting for the boy to greet him. But the young elf remained silent and continued to play with his shirt, not even looking up at him. Glorfindel waited for some moments, but when the boy still did not react in any way he grabbed the boy's hair to force him to look at him and gave him a slap that made his ears ring.

The boy gasped in shock, his hands releasing their hold on the shirt, as he staggered back, his balance lost from the impact, but Glorfindel's grip on his hair was tight and he held him upright.

"I am your Lord and teacher," Glorfindel told him firmly. "You will greet me properly. I won't accept such disrespectful behaviour. Understood?"

The boy nodded hastily, or at least tried to, not quite succeeding as Glorfindel still held him by his hair. The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower could feel him shaking under his grasp and his breath gasped loudly in the quiet of the room. Glorfindel released him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Now?"

He saw the boy swallow hard, trying hard to regain his composure enough to bow before his Lord. Finally he managed an insecure bow, his voice shaking as he whispered. "My Lord."

This was far from a proper greeting, but for now Glorfindel decided to not follow this further. Scaring the boy right at the beginning so much that he would be shaking and whimpering as soon as Glorfindel even looked at him would lead to nothing.

"What is your name?" Glorfindel asked, calmer now, and in a friendlier voice.

"E-" The boy had to swallow hard, once more, before he could speak. "Erestor, my Lord."

Glorfindel smiled slightly at the 'my Lord'. The boy seemed to have some manners after all.

"Good. Erestor it is." Then he proceeded to thoroughly examine the boy. Extending his hand he moved to lift the boy's head, grasping his chin. Turning his head to all sides, he thoroughly studied the boy, eyes narrowed. He could feel him still shaking and see the fear in his eyes. He was pretty, Erestor, but nothing special. He had a normal peasant face, a normal peasant stature and probably a normal peasant intelligence. In other words, just what Glorfindel needed. And he seemed to be healthy. The last thing he needed was a sickly subject who would influence the outcome of this project in any undesired way.

"I don't want to see any more disrespectfulness from you," Glorfindel said firmly, staring down his nose at the boy. "I hope you know how lucky you are in being brought here and being given the chance to learn how to read and write, among other things. You better use this chance and don't endanger it by improper behaviour. "

The boy nodded hastily, the only colour in his pale face the red imprint of Glorfindel's hand.

"You will go with Gaelion now. He will show you your chamber, explain you the rules you will have to follow and give you proper clothing. I expect you tomorrow morning at 6 in my study, no earlier, no later. You better be there on time."

"Yes, my Lord," Erestor whispered, even managing a slight bow.

Turning about Glorfindel left him in Gaelion's care, leaving the room. The elf who had announced him the boy's arrival was waiting on front of the door for him and fell in step beside Glorfindel, as the Lord motioned him to follow him.

"Salgant's subject has arrived as well?"

"Yes, my Lord. They were delivered at the same time. We made sure to choose two subjects with conditions as similar as possible. They are twin brothers, my Lord, having been raised in the same family, under the same circumstances, doing the same work. The circumstances are as favourable as possible."

"Good." Glorfindel smiled slightly. "I hope their parents weren't too reluctant to give them away?"

"Oh no, my Lord. Not at all. There was nearly no conviction needed. They were only too willing to give us their children and the price they demanded for that was ridiculously low. I'd be surprised if they got more than a cow for that!"

"Peasants," Glorfindel simply said and the other elf nodded approvingly. "They have no sense of honour or loyalty. They'd sell everything for a little money." With a movement of his hand he released the elf, smiling contentedly. Everything was as perfect as one could wish for. He really looked forward to the challenge and he hoped the boy wouldn't disappoint him. On the other hand, he hoped his brother would make sure to disappoint Salgant.

The boy's arrival at his house was the result of a discussion with Salgant that had gone on for months. The main subject of this discussion was the question, if peasants were intelligent enough to learn. Everybody knew that they were by far lesser beings then the members of the Houses, but perhaps it was possible to teach them a thing or two. It was without question that they'd never reach the level of understanding and proficiency of the nobles, but perhaps they could at least learn how to write and read some easy texts.

Together Glorfindel and Salgant had decided to give it a try to see what would come from it, and Glorfindel had sent his servants to look for a pair of peasants young enough to at least have a chance to learn, and with similar background.

Twin brothers. Just perfect. The boys were exactly the same, providing himself and Salgant with exactly the same chance of succeeding. Of course it did not only depend on the boys, an important factor was the skill of the teacher, and Glorfindel had no doubt that he himself was far more skilled in this matter and would have far more success than Salgant, if at all.

Smiling triumphantly Glorfindel returned to his dinner, contentedly looking forward to his first lesson in the morning.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All Tolkien's  
Word count: 1566/2702

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Glorfindel's gaze was fixed on the door to his study, lips pressed tightly together in discontent, one finger tapping impatiently on the desk, feeling the minutes pass by. There was barely anything more he hated than waiting, being used to always have people around him to obey his orders at once.

The finger stilled as the door moved and opened with a soft creak, revealing two shy eyes peaking inside.

"Come in," Glorfindel snapped, seeing the figure in the doorway flinch at the hard tone of his voice.

Hastily Erestor slipped into the room, closing the door a tad too loud, earning another frown from Glorfindel. Making his way over to stand in front of the big desk he bowed shakily and forced himself to whisper "My Lord", remembering only too well the slap from the day before.

"You are late," Glorfindel growled, staring intently at the boy standing in front of him, head lowered, looking horribly lost in his new attire. Gaelion had taken his dirty peasant clothes and given him the long, dark robes worn by the young scribes-in-training. It was clear that Erestor wasn't used to this, he didn't stop fumbling with the unfamiliar cloth and pulling at it to straighten it, unsure how exactly it was supposed to be worn.

Glorfindel noted with a tad of amusement that he wore the outer robe backwards and his anger lessened slightly. How could he expect from this boy to follow his instruction impeccably? He was just a simply peasant and he couldn't expect him to be able to memorize his instruction on the very first time. He was not intelligent enough for this, after all. Furthermore, the nobility and perfectness of this place must put him in such an awe that he could not concentrate on his tasks properly. And who could blame him, he was only used to his tiny, dirty peasant shack after all, which they probably shared with their animals.

"You are late," he grumbled once more, slightly less intimidating now. "You're lessons begin at six in the morning. No earlier, no later. It is at exactly this time that I want to hear you knocking on my door, properly dressed. Let Gaelion explain to you how to wear those clothes, you put them on all the wrong way."

The boy's gaze instantly moved to look at the dark robes he wore as he blushed a soft red in embarrassment. "Yes, my Lord," he mumbled softly.

"Tell me." Glorfindel leaned forward, curious to see if those few repetitions had been enough to make the boy understand and memorize them. "When do you come to my study?"

"At six, my Lord," the soft voice mumbled again.

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows appreciatively. He remembered, good. This didn't mean, of course, that he'd still remember it in a few hours, but for now it was a good start and he would make sure to continue to repeat it throughout the day.

"At six," Glorfindel agreed, nodding towards a chair on the other side of the desk. "Sit down."

"Yes, my Lord." The boy hurried to do as he was told, nervously fumbling with the unfamiliar robes to fold them in a way that would allow him to sit down.

Glorfindel watched his attempts, amused. Yes, it would be fun to train this boy.

"Well, as you know you are here to be taught a few things few of your status and intelligence have a chance to learn. Such as writing and reading, which we will do today. I will explain some things to you and show you how to do it, then you will return to your rooms and practice the rest of the day. Understood?"

The boy nodded, gaze fixed on his lap.

"By the Valar, boy, don't just stare at your feet, you'll find nothing to write with there."

Erestor's gaze instantly snapped up, briefly looking right at Glorfindel, trying to read in his face what he expected from him, before looking at the desk and the things that were piled in front of him.

"This," Glorfindel slightly leaned forward to point to a parchment lying in front of the boy, "is the table with all the letters of the alphabet." He paused for a moment, frowning at the boy thoughtfully. "Do you know what letters are?"

"I… I think so… my Lord…"

"Letters," Glorfindel started, deciding to erase every doubt to make sure the boy knew what he was talking about, "are written signs, each representing a sound, such as 'e' or 'p' and all the others. Put together they can be used to form words, of course not in a random order, the right letters need to be chosen for the sound required. This way you could write your name, for example, choosing the signs for the sounds 'e', 'r', another 'e', 's', 't', 'o' and another 'r'. This also works with my name, as well as with any other word there is. This way whole sentences and even long texts can be written. Do you understand this?"

The boy nodded, gaze fixed on the parchment with the alphabet.

"Do you understand this?" Glorfindel repeated, his voice a touch colder, displeased about the boy's silence.

"Yes, my Lord," Erestor hurried to say, lowering his gaze once more in embarrassment.

"Good. I know this is very difficult for you, especially for you, as a peasant, so we will start very slowly, one letter at a time. The first letter you can see here," once again Glorfindel leaned forward to point to the letter in question, is the letter 't'. Remember it's name and every time you write it I want you to loudly repeat it. Tell me, what is this letter's name?" Expectantly Glorfindel stared at Erestor, feeling excited like a child, now that his experiment had finally started.

"It's called 't', my Lord," Erestor repeated obediently, gaze fixed tightly on the letter.

"Now take your quill and your ink and try to copy it," Glorfindel instructed, pointing to the empty parchment in front of Erestor.

"Yes, my Lord," the boy answered, but despite his words the only thing that moved were his eyes, sweeping over the things in front of him.

Glorfindel furrowed his brow. Had the boy even listened to him? "Erestor," he said firmly, waiting for the boy to raise his gaze and look at him. "I told you to take the quill and the ink and to copy the letter."

Erestor nodded, his gaze dropping back to the desk. "Yes, my Lord." But once again he did not move to obey Glorfindel's instructions. He lifted one hand, uncertainly touching the empty parchment, then the parchment with the alphabet, before moving to hesitantly touch several things in front of him, always looking up at Glorfindel to observe his reaction.

"Erestor," Glorfindel repeated once more, the displeasure now having returned to his voice. "I told you something. Why aren't you doing it?"

"My Lord…" the boy mumbled softly, pulling his hands back to hide them under the table. "Excuse me but… the quill… and the ink…"

"Yes?" Glorfindel urged him on, impatiently.

He saw the boy swallow hard, before he whispered softly; "What do they look like?"

"You don't know what a quill looks like?" Glorfindel asked carefully, astonished.

"No, my Lord," the boy whispered, staring at his feet.

"Or ink?"

"No, my Lord," Erestor whispered again, his voice barely audible now.

Glorfindel sighed deeply, raising a hand to push the objects in question right in front of the boy. It seems like he had overrated the boy.

"This is a quill," he explained, waiting for the boy to take the object in question. "And this is your ink." With a quick movement of his hand he opened the small bottle of ink. "To write, you dip the tip of your quill into the ink, it will soak up some of the fluid and you can write with it afterwards. You will need to repeat this on a regular basis, once you have used up all the ink in your quill. Never forget to close the ink once you're finished, or it will dry out, or to clean your quill. Now…" Having explained this Glorfindel leaned once more back into his chair, nodding towards the empty parchment. "Copy the letter."

Erestor stared at the quill in his hand, turning it uncertainly, before he hesitantly lifted it and dipped it into the ink.

Glorfindel sat upright with a start, stilling the boy's hand. "Not that deep! You will never be able to use the ink so high on the quill. You'll only waste it."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," the boy mumbled, moving the quill towards the parchment, producing a shaky stroke on the clean surface.

"No!" Glorfindel interrupted him, horrified about the way the boy was holding the writing utensil. "Look at your quill, you broke the tip. Don't put that much pressure on it!" He pulled the quill out of the boy's hand and examined the broken tip, frowning discontentedly. This quill was ruined. Sighing he put it down onto the desk, studying the boy in front of him.

Erestor was once more staring straight at his feet, his face tainted red.

"I think," Glorfindel decided after some moments, reaching out to put the alphabet away, "we'll rather start your lessons with teaching you how to hold a quill."

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End file.
